Picking Up the Pieces
by jmd811
Summary: REVISED PostScars. This takes place the night Harrison Fisher resigned from the Congressional race. This is Johnny's reaction after the speech.


Johnny Smith leaned back in a chair in his basement, staring at the Armageddon board standing in his basement, at this point half full. News articles, pictures, post-its, connection webs were all apart of this wall of doom. He just sat there, staring at it blankly. The room was mostly dark. A small light lit the room up dimly. The silence and stillness hung in the air in the room. He was all alone. The room was the only thing in the entire world, the board the only item of significance. To John, it seemed taller than it actually was. A tower of gloom.

He felt like he had been dealt a blow to the stomach. Harrison Fisher had just dropped out from the race. Stillson was now uncontested, unchallenged. All that was left was Democrat Stephen Hanz and the person who would replace Fisher as the Republican candidate. Hanz was a long shot and probably wouldn't stand a chance in generally Republican district. Whoever it ended it up being, it wouldn't matter who the Republicans pick. Stillson had a huge upper hand.

The words spoken by Harrison Fisher swam through his mind, replaying them over and over again. "And I've found that to deny who you are is more painful than to confront what you hate about yourself…" The pain in his voice took a lot out of Johnny. Emotions began pouring into his mind as all of the events began to catch up to him. Grief, disappointment, anger…

Johnny began to stand up, keeping his eyes glued to the board. He started pacing the room, slowly, watching the board intently, glaring at the Stillson campaign posters and the image of a nuclear explosion in a dark background. At the Harrison Fisher campaign button he had recently posted on it, at the newspaper articles and the web of Stillson connections. And what had they led to so far? Nothing…

Fisher's speech continued to flood his mind. "It takes courage to face yourself and I was too weak to admit… _how weak I was..._" His anger seemed to slowly grow, gradually beginning to cancel out his other emotions of grief and disappointment. His frustration was a disease spreading throughout the body, eating away anything and everything in its path…

Johnny began pacing faster and faster. The thoughts began swirling in his head. Armageddon, Stillson, Sarah, Purdy… _everything_. Fisher continued to haunt his mind. "Guilt drove me to silence and guilt forced me to the truth. It is something we should embrace because it is the only thing our morality has to wield against us… when we forget ourselves…"

He now walked up to the Armageddon board, confronting the picture of Stillson and his campaign poster. He stared at it long and hard, anger in his eyes as they turned an electric blue. His anger reached a boiling point. At that instant, he was angry at everything. Angry at Fisher for dropping out of the race. Angry at Stillson for getting Sarah to work for his campaign. Angry at himself for allowing all of this to happen. Way to go, you just gave Stillson a clear path to power, have a nice day.

In an act of pure fury and anger and frustration, Johnny knocked over the Armageddon board with every ounce of his energy. He let out a shout of anger as he did it. The board groaned as it hit the floor with a loud thud. The clatter of papers in the air and the sound of falling boxes and other objects filled the silenced room. In a few moments, everything settled and the room fell into silence again. The only remaining sound was the sound of his irregular breathing. The voices in his head and the thoughts in his head stopped. It was just him, alone.

Johnny took a couple of steps back almost in shock of his act of rage. Tears began to fill his eyes. They clouded his vision. His legs became useless and he stumbled on his knees in front of the fallen Armageddon board, the hot tears rolling down his cheeks helplessly, and his eyes were swollen a crimson red. He hunched over and buried his face in his hands, sobbing loudly. The sobs filled the room, but nobody could hear him. Nobody could hear his pain. Nobody could hear the sobs of desperation. He had never felt so defeated, so alone. All the emotions that he had kept wrapped in a ball in his mind suddenly flooded out of him. The flood gates of his mind opened. He let everything go.

* * *

Half an hour later, he got up from the floor and went in front of the Armageddon board. And began picking up the pieces… 


End file.
